My Nebble
by Dragonsbane1611
Summary: (SH) As he walked toward the door, he spotted the toy and pocketed it before leaving.


I don't know about the rest of you, but I needed older Harry/Nebble interaction. This was a long time coming, and nearly wasn't, but I like it.  
  
For My Nebble  
  
Sat.28.Feb-Jun.2004  
  
"Why don't you levitate them?" Ron questioned when he set the boxes down in along the back wall of the living room.  
  
"I don't mind carrying them," he shrugged, stretching a little. "With my history with wand work, this is easier."  
  
"At least take the lift," Harry put in.  
  
"Nah," Neville insisted, waving them off. "I like the work." And he did. Manual labour had gradually worked a lot of the clumsiness out of him and left him with a sense of accomplishment. He turned for the door and made his way down the four flights of stairs to the street. Ron and Harry had taken the lift and were waiting for him on the lower level.  
  
"For moving so much faster than me, you'd think more of these boxes would be upstairs," the late arrival teased.  
  
"We didn't want you to feel left out," Harry assured his new roommate.  
  
"I'm so grateful."  
  
Remus was just closing the boot when the three of them descended the front steps. There were four boxes sitting on the sidewalk and Neville bent to pick up two.  
  
"I've got this one," Lupin stated, taking the top box out of his arms. Harry and Ron each took up one of the remaining boxes and they all started back for the apartment. Neville turned left for the staircase and was surprised to see Ron following him. Remus had begun to go after Harry, but seeing the two on the stairs, he, too, had taken the longer route.  
  
"Hey, I need someone to get the button," Harry called over his burden.  
  
"Come on, Potter. You can handle the stairs," Ron joked over his shoulder and, soon, a fourth set of footfalls was echoing off the walls of the stairwell.  
  
When they reached the flat, they each relieved themselves of their boxes.  
  
"I'll get drinks," Ron declared, ducking into the kitchen and retrieving four butterbeers.  
  
"Where did you get those?" Harry wanted to know. "We're just now moving in."  
  
"I put them in that regurgitater before we started. Thought we might like them when we finished."  
  
"I think you mean refrigerator," Remus put in, sliding a box with him to the couch.  
  
"Ice box," Harry stated, sitting next to Lupin.  
  
"I don't care what it's called! The muggle contraption that keeps things cold!" Ron exclaimed.  
  
"What are you looking at, Professor Lupin?" Neville inquired, moving to sit on the arm of the couch by Harry.  
  
"I'm not your professor anymore. Call me Remus and this is the box your grandmother gave you as we were leaving."  
  
"Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot."  
  
"Come on, then, let's have a look," Ron pressed, sitting on Lupin's other side.  
  
Remus started to reach in, but stopped.  
  
"What am I doing? Here, Neville."  
  
The man pushed the box over toward the young fellow perched at the end of the couch. Neville set aside his butterbeer and pulled the flaps open.  
  
"Oh, wow," he breathed, lifting a leather-bound album into his hands. Opening the front cover, he smiled when he read the inscription.  
  
This was your parents'. They would have wanted you to have this when you moved out. I suppose I hoped they'd be the ones giving this to you –  
  
Keep it safe, Neville.  
  
- Your Grandmother  
  
Turning the page, Neville looked at Harry and handed him the book.  
  
"You'd probably like this, too."  
  
Harry furrowed his brow and looked at the first picture.  
  
"What is it?" Ron said, craning his neck to see.  
  
"It's my mum and dad."  
  
"And mine," Neville added.  
  
"Wicked."  
  
"Jamesy?" Harry asked, reading the caption under the photo.  
  
Remus laughed.  
  
"Frank was fond of calling your dad that."  
  
The younger men smiled as Harry turned another page and promptly cocked their heads to one side.  
  
"Is that Sirius?" the red-head inquired.  
  
The man in the picture was making the most hideous face, but not on purpose it seemed. He was just caught at an odd moment and his mouth was forever moving, shouting something.  
  
They turned their heads a bit more and Remus chuckled.  
  
"That's Sirius, alright. That was at your first birthday party. I was playing with his camera and … well, you see."  
  
They shared a laugh at this and turned their attention to the next photograph.  
  
"We've seen that," Harry stated and Neville pulled an identical picture out of his pocket.  
  
Ron read the caption in the album, "Harry and his … Nebble?" and furrowed his brow at the two young men on the other end of the couch.  
  
"They were best friends in those days," Remus smiled, reaching over and flipping through several pages, revealing more and more pictures of the pair as well as others of their parents.  
  
"But 'his Nebble'?" Ron persisted with a smirk.  
  
"Well, Harry didn't have the best enunciation skills in those days. You would have been his Won."  
  
Neville and Ron sniggered at this while Harry shrugged.  
  
"I was a year old; give me a break. I don't remember any complaints …" Harry passed the photo album to Remus and hooked an arm around Neville, pulling him over onto his lap, " … from my Nebble."  
  
Harry ground his knuckles into his friend's scalp and Neville batted him away, rolling onto the floor to escape.  
  
"Geroff me, Harry." Neville got to his knees and eyed his childhood friend warily. "Had you done that, I would have complained, I'm sure."  
  
"Aw, Nebble, you know you wuv it," Harry said, embracing his friend and Ron laughed.  
  
"Come off it, Harry. You don't remember anything from those days," Remus interjected, prying the boys apart.  
  
"Except wuving Nebble."  
  
"Oh, well, I love you too, Harry," Neville assented, patting his friend's head.  
  
"Didn't Nebble talk funny, too?"  
  
"No," Lupin said simply, looking back at the album. Neville gave a triumphant smile as he stood and reclaimed his seat on the arm of the couch.  
  
"Guess you had to be good at something," Harry frowned, playfully.  
  
Neville feigned offense and held his fist to his heart, twisting it as he fell off the arm to the floor with an, "Oomph."  
  
"I was just messing around, Neville, you know that, right?"  
  
"Of course," the man on the floor began, "I'm good with plants too."  
  
"Well, I got the girl," Ron announced, grinning stupidly, not wanting to be left out of the banter and finding no inclusion elsewhere.  
  
Neville's head appeared over the arm of the couch and Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
"Harry's got a girlfriend, too," he reminded the ginger-haired fellow.  
  
"Whatever," Ron waved him off, taking a swig of butterbeer.  
  
"He refuses to acknowledge that I've wooed his little sister."  
  
"To do your bidding?" Remus wondered aloud, still looking at pictures.  
  
Harry answered by waggling his eyebrows and smirking.  
  
"Leave it," Ron ordered.  
  
Lupin chuckled and passed the book back to it's owner.  
  
"That hat is dead green," Neville commented, pointing at the stocking cap the green-eyed toddler was wearing in one of the photos.  
  
"Your mum gave that to him," the older man informed them and launched into a story that led to many stories of their infancies.

* * *

"I can't believe I gave you my dog," Harry grumbled, moping about the living room.  
  
"Your puddy?" Neville laughed from his place on the couch, holding up the figurine of the black dog.  
  
"Don't you mean your dawd?"  
  
"Do you want it back? It doesn't even move." He really didn't want to relinquish the toy, but was willing if Harry was serious.  
  
"No, you keep it; it's been yours for nearly seventeen years."  
  
The man on the couch smiled and turned it over in his hands until his roommate fell onto the cushion next to him.  
  
"You know, for ten years, I thought I didn't have a friend in the world, when really, I had you," Harry thought out loud, looking at Neville.  
  
"Growing up, I wouldn't have been much good as a friend."  
  
"Shut up, Nebble. You would have been friend enough. You and Ron are the best friends I could ever want."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Harry picked up the photo album and opened to the picture of their parents.  
  
"I wish my parents were here and able to tell you about your mum and dad," Neville said quietly.  
  
"For your sake, I wish they were just here and able to tell anything."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Slapping his knees, Harry stood up.  
  
"I've got training in the morning, so I'm going to retire for the night."  
  
"Right then, goodnight, Harry," Neville mumbled, closing the book.  
  
"Goodnight," said the other, patting his shoulder before pausing and kissing his friend's hair quickly, "Nebble."  
  
Neville pushed his laughing roommate away. Harry smiled all the way to his room and as he got into bed while his friend, again, studied the black dog. After several long moments of silence, he stood and started for his own room. Glancing into Harry's room, he saw him fast asleep and looked once more at the figuring. He tiptoed into the room and placed the toy on Harry's night stand beside his glasses before going back to his own room and laying down.

* * *

The sunlight through the curtains woke him the next morning. He sat upright and stretched. Relaxing into a sleepy slouch, Neville saw the miniature black dog and grinned. The toy was sitting on a slip of parchment with _'For my Nebble'_ scribbled on it. 


End file.
